Crash
by lucablue
Summary: You don't always get what you want...


**Crash**

He stared up at the floor of the Impala. It was unsettling looking up from this angle and seeing everything that was so familiar look so strange. Perspective was kinda funny like that.

His possessions haphazardly scattered, remnants of his life in ruins.

A wave of pain found him when he moved his head so he stopped, sweat breaking out on his face. Wasn't worth the effort really.

His dazed mind, still full of hunter's instincts and training, sought to make sense of this. Of now.

He remembered rolling over and over, hitting the ceiling, the dash, the wheel, the seat in a seemingly never ending jumble. Chaos.

Movement, panic, fear, screeching noise and absolutely no control. Then stillness and pain.

He opened his eyes wide and realised that even his eye sockets hurt. He closed them again when he remembered he was alone. He breathed a sigh of relief for that one small mercy.

The irony being he didn't really want to be alone.

He really wanted to see Sammy right now but that wasn't gonna happen. Not enough time now.

You didn't always get what you wanted.

His eyes stung and his throat burned around that one thought but it wasn't gonna change anything. Emotions were pretty fucking useless when you really thought about it. They'd never served him any purpose, the ending never changed just cause you were hurting. Just because you wanted with all your heart and soul for things to be different, to be how they were before. Not perfect but just not this.

Faith was a little different, if you believed in the right thing. It's not like he believed in God or anything. There were only two things now. Two things he could count on.

What he saw with his own two eyes. Arguably some might say that wasn't faith, it was too tangible but he begged to differ. Especially after the things he had seen.

And Sam.

Always Sam.

He groaned aloud as his breathing hitched. He felt the tears running down his face, and squeezed his eyes shut in protest. Fucking get a grip.

A shudder rippled across him and he actually became aware of his body as it shook. Glancing down at himself for the first time, moving his chin down slightly, slowly, he stared at the red stain that covered the parts of him he could see.

He stared at the piece of shiny metal that stuck out of his stomach. Didn't even know what it was, didn't really care. It was just there.

His legs hurt. The cough that choked out of him when he tried to raise his head a little to check the damage hurt more. The coppery warmth that ran down his chin and neck went unnoticed as grey turned to black again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was cold now and he hurt so badly. It hurt to breathe and he wondered why his body insisted on continuing that function. It would be easier to stop now and get it over with, no point delaying the inevitable. Waste of time and effort.

False hope.

Hope was only for those that dared to dream, wanted more than they had already. Hope was for fools and children, it had no place in his heart anymore. Hope only led to disappointment. More pain.

A cold breeze across his skin as the light faded. The changed angle of the sun glinted off the dashboard and splintered glass from the windscreen.

Huh, his last sunset. The colours refracted off the glass fragments creating a rainbow spectrum that danced across the steering column and leather seats. He almost relished the chance to enjoy it, appreciate it. He couldn't remember taking the time before.

God it hurt. The pain was overbearing now, almost blotting out everything else. He could hear himself moan with each breath now. The fire in his gut spread into his lungs and his back. Each intake of air a new torture.

At least his legs had gone numb now. There was a little feeling in his right arm but without the will there was no motivation to try. He was content to just be. Wait it out.

A tear slid from his eye as he thought of his brother again. Just leaving Sam like this after everything they had been through wasn't fair. Sam would be alone, unprotected. Sam might never even find him but maybe that was a good thing. Finding your dead and mangled brother in a car wreck was probably best avoided. It would mess with his head more than a little. It would definitely leave scars.

There was nothing he could do anyway.

The pain in his chest and stomach made him sob now, made him weak as he began to lose his strength. Lose the fight. He became scared and vulnerable and he didn't care.

He just wanted it to be over.

He needed Sammy so much he started to believe he was there with him in the rain. It was raining inside the car now, he could feel the drops on his face.

He imagined a warm hand that gently brushed across his forehead and cheek, coming to rest on his shoulder. He tried to whisper his brother's name one last time as his brain heard Sam's voice in his ear.

Wishful thinking.

"Dean it's Sam, I'm here, I've got you now okay. Don't you give up, you stay with me. Please Dean please."

He opened his eyes and squinted into the fading light as Sam's face was right there, tears falling down his face as though he was real. Tears falling like raindrops.

"I've got you. You're gonna be okay."

He fought to move his arm. He struggled against the darkness and pain. He would stay for Sammy.

"Please Dean. I need you to stay, please. Don't you give up now, you need to stay."

He heard the hope.

He had faith.

You don't always get what you want but sometimes you just might get what you need.

_The End._

_(For Jayce 1980-2008)_


End file.
